I am currently watching a lightning storm through the big bay windows of the old kindergarten classroom in the former Toronto Island school (now Artscape Gibraltar Point!), reflecting on how a very busy winter loops in a dream through to this spring . . . which finds me once again on the Eyeland, the very one that has inspired the latest project I am immersed in. Over a year ago while attending the inaugural Literary In(ter)ventions program at the Banff Centre I met Erin Robinsong, fellow poet with mad skillz for learning tech, interest in incorporating movement, gesture and sound in writing . . . so fast forward to this! midst! of creating an exploratory writing work called “Osculations on a Theory of Islands” . . .

We are so fortunate to have had the opportunity to spend time creating this piece at the Banff Centre in April. We revisited the sketches we created last summer on the Eyeland and have a draft of the piece which includes songs and soundwork, tarp dances and ghost stories.

&now we so fortunate to be watching the Toronto skyline light up electric on the first day of our second creation residency for Osculations at Artscape Gibraltar Point – we have clocked our cables . . .

and are going to edit the narrative in prep for meeting up with our other collaborators, David Ip and Sean Frey.

And the rain inspires us riders of storms . . .

A husk, a lung,



Furred In(ter)RUPTions

February 26, 2011

Dove out of the unblissful agony that is winter by Gary a couple weeks ago for the glories of Writers’ Rebellious In(ter)ventions at the Banff Centre. They’ve given me a music hut for my audio mischief and I love the witchy, blizzed and moonish trip out my res door to this sweet lil creative cave . . .

Out here I can breathe with this wee but wickedly radical group of peers I’m thrown into residency with . . . Nnn, yo, LO BEwholed, we’re into inter-everything – be it ruptions, actions, alities, relations . . . exploring writing and language through various media, OR the re-mediation of ideas and intentions from language into sound, jello, academic discourse re-imagined as playground, Facebook (so I have to re-activate my account to play along ;( ), embroidery, digitization . . . .

Found and lost on the path to the deeper woods to Hoodoos, to the elk pocket sleep picnics, to the sorrow of February twilight cast on icicle, to the slip and fall recover sway dance on the road to watch winter fall into the river tunneling down the mountain drive. I’ve got keys! in my hut to choreograph and beat-note neat my textual cravings.

And let me introduce you to my new radical pals who run presses, document collaboration –write life live line by line, and then flatline online biography, make beautiful sentences that self-destruct in post post-structuralist unverse and absolve us of about-isms

so we can conquer cold heads, case torn spirits and eye rogue land, rebel against the fallen hounded and dig ourselves out of context.

Note by noun, I’m floating these paragraphs out to mid-lake, post-dive from peer to intervening pier. We’re certainly having some stimulating con(ver)sations.

From real life,